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RE:Start
The chronicle of beginning, a start to Ulysses. Entrance This tells of a tale, not so distant in time, yet far from the reach of mortal beings. Vanquishing any traces of life in their sight, entrapping the essence of a beating heart in desolate cubes, these conquerors are the ones known as Perishers. Born from nothing, yet seeking to reduce everything to naught, that is their goal. Deriving their power from pulseless corpses, of which were once alive. A cruel fate, set in stone for their victims. As if their very souls were to be locked in place. They rampage, like mindless beasts unleashed. Only a cold, empty universe remains. It is the year 5XXX UB, otherwise referred to as the dreaded time frame, Universal Breakdown. Duo Whatever you do, wherever you may go, always keep it close to your heart. Those were the last words muttered from Father, before an overwhelming presence took control of his body, one that was about to turn lifeless; a doll, devoid of will, incapable of feeling. Since my younger days, the childlike me had always dreamt of an exciting space adventure, one that was impossible to fulfill due to the societal status our family was forced in. Father was my only guardian, the only beacon of hope left gleaming, shimmering with a weak smile forged under grim circumstances, in a desperate attempt to fill up the dismal chambers of a fragile heart with optimistic light. The lack of Mother had filled my heart with deepened sorrow, a scar that could never be healed, cracks that will never be filled even with the passing of time. One could say that I was just like barren land; despite radiant rays of light, without planting the seedlings of fulfillment, there would be no fruitful outcome; efforts gone to waste. Tribus Those nightmarish horrors, became vivid memories of the past, ones that only resonated so soundly in the lockings of my mind. They seemed ever so near, yet ever so distant, treasures out of my reach. I have taken it upon myself to scout the remainder of what was formerly known as 'space'; now so cold and empty inside. They, have ravaged every last sentient lifeform, forcefully stopped every last heartbeat, trapping countless screams and cries of help in pathetic, little boxes which serve their name. The stars are everlasting, though their light now shines on desolate, vacant worlds. Useless, they should have perished instead. Those are my thoughts, unfortunately there is nobody to read them now, as I set foot on the mystical sphere of Aemagica. What was once a bustling hub of sorcerers, wizards, witches alike, who gathered from galaxies reached out apart, now deserted. Cities stood tall, crystal towers illuminated by functioning beacons sprouting with flowing magical energies of which I never understood clearly enough. Now these were all for naught, in a twist of fate. Streets rustled with the dangling of paper adverts hanging from signposts. The wind brought to me a poster, slammed into its inky borders was a familiar face. Wanted, for a lump sum of cash. How nostalgic, how beautiful, the way fate flies into your hands yet again, despite how much you persist to avoid its clutches. In the background, a sudden clanging of metallic boots. My gaze filled with alertness, swung to the back, while my body swiftly reacted to its presence. Standing proud and tall, equipped with a hand mounted gattling photonic shot. Luminous crimson eyes flashed across the dividing streets, its sheer weight crushing the ground beneath. Its body lighting vigorously from within, as though it had spotted an intruder, a potential threat to its reign. I clicked my tongue, what a situation to be in. To be actually found by this planet's guardian, one of them, the force unstoppable even with the combined might of the universe. It was them. The Perishers. Quattuor Gazing at its mighty structure from behind piles among piles of boxes in the distance, I observed its initial movements. Nothing too unusual for a cyborg its stature and class, denoted by the flaming insignia the creature had burned onto its inorganic skin. The rank of Pawn, rested upon a titanium breast plate. The weakest of them all, but still possessing the raw, brute strength capable of challenging entire nations. A nuisance more than a threat, was what it was. And as with all nuisances, it would probably be best to end its artificial, programmed life prematurely. I unsheathed a blade crafted from the finest metals, from the bracer that rested well upon a scarred left appendage. A piece of ancient technology that was found hastily attached to my hand when I woke; I never questioned why it was there, only its capability in physical battle. Jumping with swift yet silent moves from the safe enclave of dirtied garbage bags and rotten wooden planks, I transported my body from building to building, as with an eagle ascertaining the vulnerability of its prey, making the rounds to make sure it was unguarded. That was what The Perishers appeared to me, just mere, defenseless prey. A few circles of observation, and I went in for the kill. The usual procedure, aim for the nape of its neck, an opening of tangled wires and frothing machine blood exposed to the environment around it. Stab, stab, stab. Simple. And as a trail of crimson red ignited from within my body, a sadistic grin spreading across my tattered face, I viciously ripped apart any being of the android it previously used to be. Quinque Hey Father, what is my life's meaning? This was a question I would ask as a small boy, oblivious to the world. He would've answered with a half thought out response. Your life's purpose, is to explore the wondrous plane of observable space! Or something along the lines of that. But I always knew he was lying through the skin of his teeth, whether it was a turn of eyes to another direction, or a bite of the lips. But those were always white lies, done out of pure goodwill, so I never questioned his motives. Then they came, leaving everything in ruin. I felt the need to ask this question again, to find my sense of fulfillment, to consummate what laid beyond the answer I was eternally seeking for. In bated breaths, eyes fading of life, he said. Your meaning... is something you should find out about yourself, for every person is unique in their own way, Ulixesia. And with bated breath, a gentle, pained smile etched upon himself, he turned. And now, I understand, my life's purpose. To eradicate those bastards, those who had taken every possible shred of life left within the empty husk of my soul. Those who seek to plunder, destroy entire families and households just for the sake of their "universal domination". That's right, kill them all. The Perishers. END OF RE:START Category:Crazybeard1234 Category:Fan Episodes